The World Feels Strange
There are moments in life when the world feels off. Like when a music video featuring a child berating a man with peculiar fetishes while flaunting her own charms tops the charts.
Everyone else seems to enjoy it, yet you alone sense something wrong—an alienating experience most people encounter at least once.
Lee Hye-ri was having that exact thought. No matter how skewed the gender ratio had become, wasn't this supposed to be a world that championed equality?
People wanted the benefits without the drawbacks. They enjoyed privileges as if they were natural, yet refused to wield the corresponding power.
It was a running joke in female-dominated online communities that the highest tier of South Korean citizenship belonged to underage males, followed by adult men. Active-duty female soldiers ranked fifth—right after the elderly and children.
She didn't complain about it. In fact, she had mostly forgotten. After all, nothing was more foolish than using "unfair society" as an excuse to do nothing. That was simply how she saw things.
"Please take care of us!"
And then Woo Dan-wol appeared, stirring up thoughts she had tried so hard to bury. She could only stare blankly at him, yet countless ideas raced through Lee Hye-ri's mind.
The word "comfort" felt almost laughable, but she was being comforted. It had been the same on the theater stage, and now it was happening again on this filming set.
Memories of hardship and discrimination flashed by—the days when she had been treated unfairly simply for being a woman, back when she had no power or experience.
But she wasn't the type to lose herself in sentiment. There was no time to waste.
If even Woo Dan-wol was working this hard, Lee Hye-ri certainly wasn't going to stand still.
She moved quickly and grabbed the emergency supplies: bottles of Bacchus and Vita500. From ancient times, ninjas and assassins had hidden their weapons close at hand. Road managers carried energy drinks.
"Director, please take care of us."
"Oh my, thank you. Wait—what are you doing here, Team Leader Lee?"
"I went independent. Please look after our actor."
It was blatant flattery and pleading, yet no one frowned. Her naturally playful gestures helped.
Imagine two scenarios: an actor who lounges in the waiting room with legs crossed, only to emerge and cause NG after NG while throwing tantrums; versus someone who walks around handing out energy drinks, smiling and saying, "Thanks for your hard work. Thanks to you, we're making something great." Which one would everyone prefer?
The latter, obviously. Everyone was just doing their job, so why get upset? Logically sound, yet the world didn't work that way. Sometimes encouragement mattered more than simply being right.
Thanks to Woo Dan-wol joining Lee Hye-ri in distributing the drinks, the set's atmosphere brightened considerably.
"Team Leader isn't forcing you, is she?"
"I'm doing this because I want to. The CEO didn't order me."
Woo Dan-wol smiled and waved his hand. His simple actions and gestures became a marching tune that lifted the spirits of soldiers preparing for battle. It was a refreshingly smooth start.
Ten minutes before filming began, lead actress Han Da-sol arrived on set and couldn't hide her surprise. Had any of her previous projects ever felt this lively? Even for Dotori is Coming, which ran like a well-oiled machine, this level of energy was unexpected.
"Da-sol, you're here?"
"Ah, Writer-nim."
She bowed her head in greeting. Normally, drama writers had no reason to visit the set—they had their own work to do. Unless they were simply observing or revising the script after watching the actors' performances, there was little cause to come. Yet Ko A-rin often stayed on set, sometimes writing on the spot whenever inspiration struck. That was her secret to success.
Meanwhile, Han Da-sol, who had been heading straight to makeup, couldn't contain her curiosity.
"Did something good happen?"
"Perfect timing."
"Hello, sunbae-nim!"
"Ah, ah..."
For a moment, Han Da-sol's expression went blank. She nearly dropped the coffee in her hand. In a way, it was understandable. The Woo Dan-wol who suddenly appeared before her looked like an entirely different person.
"Dan-wol-ssi?"
"Yes, sunbae-nim."
"G-good to see you. You got your makeup done."
"Yes. Does it suit me?"
"Uh... I should go get ready too."
Han Da-sol averted her gaze and hurried away as if fleeing. She couldn't help it—his beauty was simply too lethal in her eyes.
In this world, men wore makeup as a matter of course. Though women generally didn't, Han Da-sol, being in the entertainment industry, possessed enough knowledge to discuss styling matters. She knew Woo Dan-wol usually went bare-faced. His delicate features and innocent-looking face made it hard not to notice.
That was why she had momentarily lost her composure. With makeup on, he looked like a completely different person. His pale complexion carried a hint of decadence, yet he greeted her with a smile. The contrast was overwhelming.
"I-it's a little hot..."
It was mid-June, still early for summer, but Han Da-sol felt warm. She quickly downed her iced Americano and managed to calm herself.
"A vampire or something."
"What did you say, unni?"
"Nothing..."
Han Da-sol quietly closed her eyes. She wasn't late, but her schedule had forced her to arrive just in time. Without traffic, she would have been thirty minutes early and fully prepared.
As her makeup neared completion, a staff member entered to check on the actors.
The long-awaited filming of Forest of Flowers was finally about to begin.
The drama consisted of twelve episodes, with the possibility of a second season depending on its performance. Naturally, today's shoot was crucial.
It would air on Netflix, meaning all filming had to finish before editing and release.
Today's location was the grand mansion that would serve as the setting from episodes two through eight.
After most scenes were shot, winter sequences would be handled through CG and editing.
Wearing coats in summer would be uncomfortable, but it was still better than traveling to a cold country for filming.
Once preparations were complete, the actors stepped onto the set. Facing countless cameras aimed at them, filming began.
"Standby—!"
The assistant director called out. Cameras rolled in unison, and the actors began immersing themselves in their roles.
"Cue!"
Seo Yeon-soo gave the signal, and the camera movement started.
Jin Da-yeon entered the mansion. The people inside looked unsettling. Some appeared normal on the surface, while others were obviously strange. Faces she recognized.
The camera captured her expression. She recalled her memories and realized who these people were. As the lead actress, her delicately shifting expressions were flawless.
Her pupils gradually widened over two seconds. Her gaze took in each person, conjuring a montage that would appear on screen.
She had sensed it—the rookie detective had fallen among criminals.
"Cut! That was good, Da-sol-ssi."
"Hoo..."
Han Da-sol caught her breath. It was a short scene, yet it required conveying a wealth of emotions and expressions. The effort paid off. The shoot was off to a smooth start.
"Next, we'll film the criminals."
"Understood."
Woo Dan-wol nodded as he watched Han Da-sol step back. Her performance was truly impressive—clearly the result of thorough analysis. He waited for his turn, anticipation building.
The camera captured the criminals warming themselves by the fireplace. Though supporting roles, they were precious talents who would carry the intense thriller scenes across six episodes. Their acting would determine whether the footage lived or died.
A plump middle-aged woman. An ordinary-looking girl. A twenty-something woman twitching with barely contained menace. A bespectacled, intellectual thirty-something. A hunched grandmother. And a towering woman over two meters tall.
They were all women, and all had committed crimes worse than murder yet lived in hiding.
Some looked ordinary, some harmless, and some obviously dangerous.
Here the drama made its point: you never knew what mask a criminal might wear.
"Cut! Let's try that again!"
Dissatisfied, Director Seo Yeon-soo called for another take. Even the supporting actors, veterans of the industry, understood why.
"Sorry, my nose was itchy."
"Ahaha!"
The seventy-year-old veteran actress, who had radiated menace moments ago, reverted to a kindly grandmother and cracked a joke.
Laughter filled the set. Perhaps because of that, the next take passed without issue.
Then—
"Dan-wol-ssi! Show us what you've got."
"Yes, Director."
"Good luck, Dan-wol-ssi."
"Please take care of me, sunbae-nim."
Only Woo Dan-wol and Han Da-sol remained on set. Under everyone's watchful eyes, their first two-shot began—the start of the drama they would carry forward.
"Standby—!"
"Cue!"
Filming commenced.